The Case of Professor James Moriarty
by Stormageddon92
Summary: Moriarty is alive and coming after Sherlock by taking the person Sherlock cares the most about, John Watson.
1. Chapter 1

It has been three years since the supposed death of Professor James Moriarty. Since receiving a threatening letter from him though a few days ago by mail, we know that he is still very much alive. Against the wishes of Sherlock I am staying here at 221B where I can help Holmes rather than loose him again to this horrific man.

If you are of bad memory, let me help refresh. It was the year 1884 and Sherlock found out that Professor James Moriarty was planning to start a very dangerous game, a game that would lead to war. Of course, Holmes did what he does best, and left me without a clue of his plans. It led up to the party where Mycroft helped us get in. Simza and I were left inside searching for her brother, Rene, the man hired to assist the start of war. As soon as we found him the police were alerted and he was taken outside where he was poisoned . . . Moriarty wanted no loose ends.

Sherlock and Moriarty were on the balcony playing a game of chess when they started to discuss Rene and what has happened from the screams that was going on inside the building. Sherlock drew him closer to the edge and considered the possibilities that would happen, and the one that was most logical was the one that he went with. He had Moriarty light his pipe as he blew the smoke and flames into his eyes, grabbed him and as I just walked out to greet Holmes he closed his eyes and pushed himself and Moriarty over the edge, down towards the cold, seething, foaming water.

Three years later Sherlock reappeared and told me that he had escaped unharmed, but had to wait until all of Moriarty's men were gone and that my life would no longer be under threat. He believed that Moriarty was gone too.

"Sherlock, no body was ever recovered."

"He is still gone. He could not have gone this long with staying silent."

That assumption was wrong and we would later grow to regret it. The letter came in the morning and was delivered by the regular chap and not someone paid by the professor. The letter read:

Dear Sherlock Holmes,

Do you realize what you have done by interrupting my plans? I am going to find you, Holmes, and when I do I am going to take what you value most away from you. I will kill him slowly and painfully in front of you. Make you watch as the last breath he takes he whispers your name and before I kill you, I will let you hold his lifeless body as you let the ghosts attack you knowing that you are to blame for his death. You have been warned, Holmes. I am coming for you.

Professor Moriarty

After receiving the letter the first thought of Sherlock was to send me somewhere where I would be safe. I refused many times and insisted that I stay here with me. This was between us and Moriarty, and that was the way we were leaving it.

"Watson, you still have the chance to get out of this before it gets bad, I do worry for your safety."

"And I yours, Sherlock. There is nothing that you can say that will change my mind; I am not losing you again."

Sherlock glanced away at my mentioning of losing him and started to light his pipe.

"That is your choice . . . Thank you, Watson."

Mrs. Hudson walked in and sat down some tea on the table.

"John, how is he doing?" She studied him with a worried expression.

"He is as well as ever, Mrs. Hudson."

"I just do not want him to repeat his last antic that left you without him and him without you. It is a most awful thing to do to the people you love. You hear that, Sherlock?"

He turned and stared at her. "Yes, I do nanny."

He smiled slightly and then turned to look out the window again.

"It is Watson's wish that I do not pull that again and he will be by my side through the whole thing. You trust John, so as you know, I will be fine."

Mrs. Watson turned and touched my shoulder.

"You protect him and you protect you." She smiled and walked out of the room.

"Damn pestering nanny." I heard Sherlock whisper under his breath.

"Shh now, Holmes! She cares for us both." I handed him the cup of tea and I went to sit in the chair. "Well . . . any more clues on where Moriarty is hiding?"

"I am finding clues to where he is, but I am putting them together. He is here and he is in plain sight." He put down the tea cup and picked up the letter. "And he is playing a very dangerous game."

Moments later Mrs. Hudson came running into the room her eyes widen with fear upon receiving a telegram.

"Sherlock, John! Something awful has happened at Mycroft's."

Sherlock took the pipe out of his mouth and turned. "Pray tell, nanny!"

"There has been a bombing. Mycroft is injured, but he is fine. He is on his way here . . . with a message."

"Mrs. Hudson." I replied calmly. "May you go set a room for Mycroft?"

She nodded her head and left. I turned back to face Sherlock.

"Are you okay?"

"Moriarty is getting closer, I can feel him."


	2. Mycroft Arrives

After a matter of hours since Mrs. Hudson had alerted us to the bombing of Mycroft's house, he finally arrived. Mrs. Hudson and I were the first ones to greet him. "Oh, Mycroft! I am so very sorry to hear what has happened." Mrs. Hudson exclaimed as she hugged him.

"Mycroft." I said as I grabbed his few belongings. "How are you holding up?"

He looked worried and extremely tired as he replied. "I have been truly better, John." He looked up at the window to see the silhouette of Sherlock playing his violin. Mycroft turned to me with sadness in his eyes. "I need you both to view this letter." He handed it to me as he continued talking. "I no longer want it in my possession."

Mrs. Hudson showed Mycroft his room. As they were getting him situated I went into Sherlock's room to give him the letter. "Mycroft is here. He has me this letter. Care to see it?"

He stood up, placed his violin down carefully and walked over to me.

"Don't be a dingy bird." He said as I handed him the note.

In very familiar handwriting were the words:

"Mycroft has done his job wonderfully since you are reading this. My eyes are on you. It is not much longer."

"Moriarty." Sherlock whispered under his breath. "He is gaining on us and we have done nothing but sit around. This is a GAME of cat and mouse, and we are the mice, Watson." He threw the note down on the desk and walked to the window. "I do not like this one bit."

I picked up the paper and flipped it over to view the material. See if it held any clues and it did. "Sherlock, there is embalm here on the note. A symbol of a business. The letter M, does it mean anything?" I asked as he took it out of my hands and looked at it.

"I see it. It's very faint." As we were about to discuss the note further Mycroft walked in. Sherlock walked over and patted Mycroft on the shoulder.

"I am glad you are okay, Mycroft. Truly."

"Thank you, Sherlock." He replied as he sat down in Sherlock's chair. Mrs. Hudson shortly followed in and handed him a cup of tea.

"Mycroft, family is the most important thing and you are family."? Mrs. Hudson said. Mycroft looked up and grinned.

She walked out of the room and Mycroft began speaking.

"You need to find him." His voice was full of rage. "And once you do, make sure this time he stays gone forever."

Sherlock stared at his brother. He was taking in all the rage he felt from his brother. The hatred of this one man was through the roof. He took the home of Mycroft, Irene from Sherlock, and for a few very dreadful years he took Sherlock from me. It was on these grounds that not only was this was a case to solve, it had a sense of vengeance wrote all over it. Where ever Moriarty was, destruction was not far behind.


	3. The Man outside the Window

Chapter 3: The Man outside the window

It was a few nights after Mycroft started staying with us that strange occurrences had been appearing. Odd lights were spotted outside at night, but were soon forgotten. This is, until that one night.

The night started off like many others. Sherlock would be smoking his pipe and reading, Mycroft would be elsewhere reading, and I would be sitting at the desk writing about the days activities. Out of nowhere we all heard shriek come from where Mrs. Hudson was working. Sherlock and I ran down as she pointed out the window.

"There was a man!" she managed to say as I helped her sit down.

Sherlock dashed outside and after making sure she would be okay, I followed his pursuit. I looked all around us as I caught up with Sherlock. "No use, John." I heard him say as I turned to see where he was. He was back by the window looking around. "He is gone now." He bent over and picked up a piece of folded paper. "However, he most kind to leave us a letter." We walked back inside and sat down. Sherlock carefully unfolded the paper and it had nothing but a "M" printed on it.

"M for Moriarty?" I asked sarcastically.

Sherlock nodded and smiled at what I had said. "It also stands for where he is staying. This embalm matches the one on the last letter we received as well. I believe he wants us to visit him/" He stood up and walked towards the door. "Care to join me, John?" He asked as he walked out the door and I ran after him.

"Where are we going?"

"The Marion Hotel, the only hotel that starts with a M and supplied this kind of paper."

Once we reached our destination we found out that place had been abandoned. Instead of doing what normal people would do in this situation and turn around, we walked inside the building. On the wall was the number 1 painted in bright yellow paint. We slowly and quietly walked towards the room. As I pushed the door open, Sherlock retrieved his revolver. The fire illuminated the room enough that we saw another lying next to a chess board. We grabbed the note and opened it.

"You've come this far. Care to go any further? Meet me at your home. . If you can. Check and mate."

The look that swept across our faces was that of horrified, the color drained from our faces. He glanced down at the chess board that sat on the table.

"Mrs. Hudson . . . Mycroft. Holmes, we must go!" I turned around and stopped in my tracks. From somewhere in the room I heard a ticking. "Sherlock . . . do you hear that ticking?"

He listened and said "I do" as he grabbed me by the arm and led us out of the hotel. As soon as we exited the building we a heard a faint noise, and then the whole place started to crumble and burn as the second explosion went off. Pieces of the building flew around and flames licked the earth with its heat. We started to run back towards our home as fast as we could. Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft were now alone with one of the most dangerous men alive.


	4. 221B

We arrived back home in a record amount of time and busted through the door. There was no noise just silence through the whole house. I took a glance at Sherlock who remained stoic normally, had a look of stress cross his face. Together we walked quietly through the room. In plain view was a single chess piece, the knight. It was then we heard a mumble. I grabbed the chess piece as Sherlock went to see who mumbled. From where I was standing I heard Sherlock quietly whisper "Mrs. Hudson" and then the ripping of rope against a knife. Once she was free and able to speak again she panicked asking Sherlock where I was.

As I was still searching the grounds for Mycroft I heard a frightening yell from Sherlock, he knew something that I did not and was worried. "JOHN!" I turned around to go to him, but it was too late. I heard the faint sound of footsteps, and then something strike against the back of my head. I was out cold.

I was being cuffed to something and I was unsure of where I was. My eyes fluttered open a few times and everything was blurry. I made out a fire from nearby and I saw the shape of a man in a suit walk by.

"Make the cuffs tighter. I do want him to get out." The voice belonged to Professor Moriarty. I closed my eyes tight and reopened them; things were getting a bit clearer. He got down to eye level with me. "Good evening, Mr. Watson. Sherlock should be here shortly with us, correct?"

I shook my head no although we both knew the answer would be yes. "He is not coming for me." I whimpered out as the man tightened the cuffs on me. The cold hard metal dug into my flesh and I soon felt the sticky warmth of blood starting to ooze from my wrists.

"Now, now, John. We both know that this is not true at all. You should not lie to me."

I looked down to the floor trying to analyze my way out of this situation. Moriarty lifted my head up.

"John . . . you do realize that this will be the last night you are alive? You are nothing but a pawn in my little game; you are the one that Sherlock will come after." He grinned and patted my face. He stood back up and walked behind me to talk to his henchman. My eyes started to water as I looked around. . . I finally realized where I was. The old house that Mary and I use to share before she was murdered. He brought me to the same place she was murdered, to murder me and to get to the most important person in my life now. This was just his sick game because he did not get what he wanted many years ago. I tried to look behind me but the more I moved the tighter the cuffs got on my wrists. I looked forward as I asked Moriarty a question.  
"How did you survive the fall?"

"It was not I who was there that day. I caught on to what you and your Sherlock would be up to. Let us just say, I lost a brother that night. How very sad, is it not?" He walked back in front of me and got back down to eye level. "Très tragique. I went into hiding after that and came out of it as soon as I knew Holmes was back as well. It was time he paid for all that he has done. And how do you cause him pain?" He starred into my eyes. "You take his most precious item. The one person that he could not live without . . ." he touched my chest. "And that would be you, John. You are the reason he keeps on living and doing what he does. If you were gone and out of the picture . . . he would blame himself."

I looked down at the floor to avoid my tears being seen. He was right and he knew it. Sherlock and I were closer than ever due to past events, and we made each other better. And now I would be the reason he would have to face off against his enemy.

From the corner of my eye I saw Moriarty make a signal with his hand and heard the loud footsteps of someone behind me. "Don't hurt him to bad . . . a few bruises and cuts here and there. I want him to suffer in pain until Sherlock comes."

"Yes, master." I heard the man bellow behind me as he slid a knife out of its container. The next thing I know Moriarty is gone and this beast of a man is in front of me.

"Tragique. Un homme de mourir à cause des péchés d'autrui." He bent down, ripped the buttons off of my shirt, and dug the knife into the flesh on my chest. I inhaled, did not scream or cry. I would not give this man or any man the pleasure of seeing me get tortured. The blood started to trickle down my chest and I saw little droplets hit the floor, one by one.

"You are strong." He laughed as he sat the knife down, wiped some of my blood off me and licked it off his hand. "Makes me wonder about you and this Sherlock." He lifted my head up with his index finger. "What a nice face . . ." he said under his breath as he punched me with his free hand. The sound of his fist meeting my face echoed through the room and I grimaced in pain. I closed my eyes just as I felt the impact of him hitting me again. Within the first few minutes I started to taste blood, the horrific taste of metal and salt in my mouth. Since my hands were tied up I could not feel the damage the done, but I knew my face was swelling and that one, or even both of my eyes, were black as night. From behind me I heard clapping.

"Stop there, Laron. I need him conscious for when Sherlock arrives. He will be here soon. I can feel him."


	5. Chapter 5: He is here

It felt hours since I was taken and cuffed in my old house. The blood that I had shed was now dry and stuck to my skin. The taste still lingered in my mouth, and the smell still in the house. The excoriating pain was still there, however. I knew that the hours of abuse that went on each hour that Sherlock did not arrive, that something in my body would be broke. I was correct in assuming that. Laron had ended up getting too rough for my standards and gave me a blow in my ribs, causing 2 of ribs on the right side to fracture.

Also anybody who walked into that room could have told you how Moriarty was feeling. The longer the day went on, the more impatient that he got. "Where is he?" he screamed as he started to lose his cool. "Maybe the rumors are right! The man does not have a heart."

A noise was heard a few minutes later, it was the sound of glass breaking in a window upstairs.

"Laron. Go check on that, now!" Moriarty yelled.

Minutes later Laron came back looking slightly frightened.

"Someone threw in a torch. The upstairs is on fire, sir."

Panic struck all of our faces. It seems as though Sherlock did come, but not the way that Moriarty wanted. Seconds pass by and Laron had taken a bucket of water upstairs to try and "calm the fire, he never did make it back downstairs. In the room were just myself and Moriarty now. Moriarty quickly turned his head around at every noise he heard.

"Did you see that?" he asked. "Something . . . from the corner of my eye." He tossed his violently from side to side.

I saw nothing but the smoke start to slide down the stairs and fill up the room we were in. In a few minutes I began to choke violently and started to feel fuzzy. I was suffocating and it was one of the worse things I have ever felt.

"It is of no use" I said softly to myself. I slowly glanced up at Moriarty who was still looking around the room. A loud thump came from behind him and he walked towards the noise. Everything started to become blurry. I knew that if there was no way for me to get out soon, I would surely be dead. Flames started to roll down the stairs as Moriarty had disappeared into another room and I heard something creep up behind me.

"You are going to be okay. You understand me, Watson?"

"H. . . Holmes. Leave . . ." I sputtered out.

"Not without you. Never without you." He whispered to me as he took off the cuffs that had bound me. I collapsed to the floor and he bent over to pick me up. "We must hurry." We started racing towards the door and he kicked it open.

The fresh air that hit us both was extremely satisfying. Sherlock started to pick up his pace as he held onto me.

"John . . . we must hurry. Please." He said as the house behind us exploded. The explosion was so harsh that it knocked us over and debris spread out all around us. We laid there for a few minutes until Sherlock was able to stand and we left back for 221B.

Upon entering back at our house Sherlock watched in pain as he saw the wounds that Moriarty and his friend had

left on me. I glanced up at him and smiled as best I could as Mycroft cleaned the wounds.

"Moriarty . . ." I gasped as the cold water touched my body. "He is going to be quite mad at you, Sherlock."

"If he lived" he answered back as he walked closer to me. He cupped my face and studied me. "I am most glad you remember who you are . . . He has done much damage to your face."

Mycroft let out a small laugh and Mrs. Hudson entered when she heard that. She handed me a cup of tea.

"Sherlock, there is nothing wrong with Doctor Watsons face." She smiled as she softly touched me. "He is still handsome as always."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. It is nice to see that some people remain kind around here in troublesome times."

Mycroft grunted as he was about to say something to Mrs. Hudson and I stopped him.

"Do not even think it, Mycroft."

Sherlock smirked as he walked towards the door.

"Where are you going, Sherlock?"

"Out for a bit of air, I will be right back John." And he left.

For a few minutes I sat still as Mycroft kept cleaning me up and making sure that nothing would get infected, but something felt off. I stood up and against the wishes of Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson I left to follow Sherlock.


	6. This Ends Now

He did not go out for air. He walked back to the house where Moriarty lay buried under the rubble and looked at the rubble.

"I am so sorry, John" he said softly to no one. He walked to the back of the now destroyed house and I followed quietly behind. From where I was standing I saw him bend over and pick up a match box. Slowly he put it inside his coat pocket and turned towards the woods.

"You can come out now, Moriarty. I know you are there. Let this end."

I stood still watching, but I had to hold the tree to stand. The pain from my wounds was kicking in, and Sherlock had just wounded me more. I felt my heart sink and I started to feel ill. How could he have done this? We made a promise to stay together, to grow old and now he is willing to throw it all away.

Rustling was heard from within the woods and a very injured Moriarty limped out holding a gun.

"Well played, Sherlock Holmes. Well played. I assume you got your friend home where he is safe, and where he will not see you die."

"He is safe. Do you know how bad you have harmed him? If you had killed him you would not be standing there speaking, I can assure you of that. This ends NOW. No more dies or gets hurts because of you."

Moriarty limped forward.

"And what are you playing here, Sherlock? No gun? Nothing to defend yourself? What makes you think I will not go and kill the good Doctor?"

Sherlock stepped closer and closer to Moriarty.

"Mycroft knows what to do to keep everyone safe. You will never harm them again."

It all made sense now. The reason Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson tried to keep at the flat was because they knew his plan. They knew he would leave and never come back. Completely breaking his word to me to end the pain he felt he has caused. Before I left, Mycroft handed me a gun and told me "If I so desired to go, to take this. It will make sense." And he locked the door as I left.

Both Moriarty and Sherlock met finally. The gun was pointed at Sherlock's chest.

"No…" I quietly said. I jumped from behind the tree, pointed the gun Mycroft gave me and fired.

Sherlock turned halfway and stared. "John!"

I started to slowly limp forward and met up with him. I got down on the ground and checked Moriarty's pulse. He was still alive.

"What was I thinking when I missed your heart?" I asked as I stood back up. "We need to get him somewhere, now."

It proved to be too late. Upon getting him to the hospital he had bled out and passed on.

"Are you okay, Sherlock?"

"Yes. Things should return to normal now."

"Things are never normal with you Sherlock." I smirked as I sat down by him.

He smirked and looked over at me.

"He was a fair advisory. And John . . ."

"Yes?"

"Thank you for saving me."

"You are important to me. I will always save you, as you will always save me."

"And I am sorry for going to surrender myself. I never meant to hurt you."

"It did hurt. I will not lie. Just know that I am always here for you, as it should be. I will be by your side."

"And I by yours."  
We stood up and left. Once we got back to the flat Mrs. Hudson ran up to us handing us the latest news.

"Sherlock, John! You are wanted at the palace. No one said much, just that someone is missing and they want you two to help."


End file.
